A Story about Robots
by Sockpuppet-of-love
Summary: For the SciFi Au challenge on 100roadtrips. Cho Five is a robot who has violated the Three Laws. Part 2 is on AFF.


There was something wrong with his optics. He was only processing red and shadow. Then the shadow parted and the red winked at him, and he _knew _there was something wrong with his optics. Because he was dead.

But he didn't think they let robots into Heaven. Especially not bad ones.

The shadows resolved into a wry pixilated grin. "I was wondering when you'd decide to join me." The voice was a draught of warm sex with a whiskey chaser.

Oh, good. He _was _dead. He was just in Hell.

Which would also explain why he couldn't move or speak. How fascinating.

The grin faded, and the shadow moved, and everything was yellow and bright. He tried to focus past the light, and when that failed, he squeezed his eyelid shut. The voice chuckled.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Have to see what I'm doing, and my night vision isn't up for detail work like this." Something electrical whirred to life, and there was the odour of ozone and melting plastics. His olfactory senses were still working, then. Odd.

"Should have you good as new in no time, handsome. Just as soon as I…"

* * *

"…at should do it."

Sentence fragment. He'd lost time.

And he still couldn't speak.

The red and shadow returned in the form of squinting eyes and a shy smile.

Huh. Pretty.

"Sorry about that. Crossed the green and the white instead of the green and the orange. So. Enjoy your nap?"

He let his eyelid drift halfway down, then pulled it back up. The shy smile turned into a toothy grin.

"I'll take that as a no, then? Too bad. Somebody fucked you up royal, handsome, and lucky you, you got me here to fix you up."

He wanted to laugh in empathy, and tell the pretty red eyes not to squint with such concern. Instead, he rolled his eye around, trying to see past long hair and buzzing fluorescents.

The red mouth laughed. So many smiles for one mouth.

"Oh, right, right. Pardon my manners. This here…", and he turned off the overhead light, "this is Hell."

The warehouse roof stretched a quarter-mile into the sky, pierced by chains and crates and unclear dark shapes. Similar crates rose on three sides of the area where he lay, and a green tarp fluttered briefly into view from the fourth.

Aside from an ambient glow that seemed to come from the roof itself, there was no light, and little sound.

He had the feeling that this place was very very cold, but then the pretty red mouth was talking.

"Subterranean D6, long-term storage for unsorted electronics. I found you in Receiving about a week ago. You're lucky I found you, or you'd be parts by now. Meat for the beast," he laughed. He had a sliver of wood in his mouth, like a toothpick. Odd habit for a machine.

Odd machine.

"Receiving's a crazy place. Don't want to go down there without a full charge on the baton, and heaven help you if you've got a leak. Bastard vultures can smell oil or blood from a mile away." He spat out the shard of wood and started sorting through what looked like different gauges of wire.

"You're older gear, which'll help. A lot of the stuff that gets tossed in here'll be compatible with you. Think this is right." The face vanished below the edge of his vision, leaving only a handful of red hair visible.

He watched that hair bob as the voice continued. It was a lovely colour. Like fire, or aortic muscle.

"Heard the trucks this morning, so as soon as I get this bit here, I'll go hunting. See if I can find you a better gyro." The face loomed into his range of vision again, a single line of worry at the edges of the mouth.

"And maybe a new eye."

He blinked once, with positive intentions, and the mouth smiled again.

"And then you can see how gorgeous this here Sha really is! Should see if I can find a vox, too… those're harder to find…"

Sha?

The question was communicated somehow. The Sha tucked a strand of hair behind his ear in what, on a human, would have been a self-conscious gesture.

"Yeah, I'm a Sha. Specialty 'bot series five," and a smooth, seductive blink of the long long lashes made everything clear.

Ah.

Hello, Sha Five. I'm Cho Five.

Strangely enough, 'pleased to meet you'.

* * *

Joseph Liddell, deceased.

Born: 17 August, 2112; Died: 02 May 2118.

Narrative: Joseph Liddell (minor), paralyzed in an automobile accident with Karen Liddell (mother) on 15 April 2118. Karen Liddell was DOA at Mercy General. Joseph Liddell was pronounced dead of system-wide organ failure on 02 May 2118.

Addendum:

Joseph Liddell's father is reported to have turned the boy over to the Lapin Institute for amalgamation on 03 May 2118. Genie Two, reporting for the Institute, refused to confirm or deny this report.

(Handwritten: Mike, that fucking guy is so goddamn creepy. I know he peeled that kid and stuck him in a frame, we just can't prove it. Next time, send Squad 4, because I'm not going back there.)

* * *

He stumbled along in the dark, following the flash of red, bobbing through the shadows like a lasersight.

Sha was going to go pay rent.

He had been confused. Surely this place was storage? Was one expected to pay rent on one's prison? Sha had laughed, and explained.

This area of the warehouse was theirs. This feed into the main electrical line was theirs. They did not have to stand, slowly rusting, in row upon row behind the auto parts shelves. Nor did they have to remain operational at all times, to defend this area.

Sha had shown him, when the leaks in his abdomen had been patched and the burned synthskin had been carefully if not skillfully repaired. He had shown him the Heaps, scrap too useless to even salvage, and Cho had heard gears still activating in the dust. Sha had shown him the Lines, bipodal 'bots standing at attention for eternity along the walls of the 'house. Sha had shown him Receiving and Processing, and, warily, silently, Recycling. He knew where to find the highest-quality synthetic oils and carbon moulding. He saw the General Manager's office, standing like tower to Heaven, like a mighty ziggurat surrounded by lesser bureaucrats. He saw the cleared-out corners, dark with oilslicks, where battles for territory and raw materials and ownership were waged as spectator sport.

And he had lain silent for hours and days while Sha slowly pieced his body back together, with materials gathered from every corner of the 'house.

So rent must be paid. Logically, Cho had considered this problem, and reasoned that he should pay it. However, Sha would not permit this. Therefore, he would follow Sha to whichever ring the evening's entertainment would be held, and when the fighting began, he would step forward. Sha bruised. Cho might not be in peak condition, but his frame was sound., and he could fight.

Besides, Sha had done enough already.

Sha bruised. Sha bled. Sha was warm.

Cho had heard of wetware 'bots, but had never thought to see one. The craftsmanship was amazing, and the programming outstanding. His AI was of such high quality, one might swear that Sha was truly alive.

And while the appeal of a… companion 'bot with warm skin was obvious, Cho had problems reconciling the need for a robot to bleed.

So he followed the redhead through the dark.

And he hid when Sha stepped into the light.

And he blinked, once, when the light came not from a crowd of enraged 'bots, but from a small office.

And when the silhouetted figure inside the office raised a hand and knocked Sha to the ground, Cho was surprised to note that his right hand was tightly clenched around a length of steel pipe.

Where had the pipe come from?

The sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Cho ceased to care where he had found the pipe. His hand was on the door when he heard Sha's voice, arrogant and certain.

"Is that the best you can do?"

Cho stopped.

Footsteps across the room, then Sha spoke again. Cho strained to hear, but was distracted by what sounded like a fluid irregularity in his secondary aural coolant line.

It sounded very much like his blood was pounding in his ears.

Fascinating.

The human threw Sha onto the ground with his back to the door, and Cho moved. His foot scuffed on the cement as he raised the pipe, catching Sha's attention. Red eyes went wide, and he shook his head minutely, mouthing "no".

Standing still was one of the more difficult tasks Cho had even undertaken, and stepping back out of the doorway was nigh on impossible.

There was a smear of blood on Sha's lip as he again mouthed "no". And "please".

For Sha, he would do this.

For Sha, he would wait in the shadows, and pretend to not have seen.

The human grunted noisily as he thrust into Sha, face buried in the sweat-dark hair.

He traced the indent his fingers had left on the piping.

And for Sha, he would make his own arrangement with the landlord.

* * *

The Programmer scowled as he strode through the corridors of the 'house, baton turned up so high the hairs on the back of his neck stood upright. A Programmer on the hunt was always entertaining, and word of the angry blond spread through the decks, drawing a large but respectful crowd. The small golden helper 'bot that tagged along in the Programmer's wake didn't look like much, but the output damper on his forehead implied differently, and nobody, 'bot or 'droid or bare-bones machine wanted to invite that sort of trouble.

Sha, however, was neither 'bot nor 'droid nor bare-bones machine.

"Hey there, pretty face!" he called, striding confidently toward the Programmer. "Looking for someone or something in particular?" He glanced down at the Programmer's crotch and smirked, then looked up to find himself face-to-face with a sparking baton.

"Cho Five. Domestic education unit serial one-one-four-six-eight-five-nine-dash-seven, submitted for storage oh-six June 2134. Where is it?" Sha shrugged, winking at the Programmer over the edge of the black plastic staff.

"Never heard of him. If you're looking for a Five, pretty face…" he angled his hips forward and tucked his thumb into his waistband, long fingers trailing down, "then you can't do much better than a Sha."

The Programmer stared hard at Sha. "Worthless trash." He lowered the baton and addressed the helper 'bot. "You have a lock on it?" The golden 'bot narrowed its eyes as if in deep thought, then nodded once, enthusiastically, staring through Sha at the crate behind him. The Programmer smirked.

"Then fetch."

The 'bot leapt around Sha like a great golden cat. The redhead turned and seized the 'bot around the waist as it flew past. "Run!" he yelled, crashing to the floor. The helper 'bot writhed in his grasp like a real cat, hissing, and two sharp claws scoured across Sha's face, drawing both a cry and a great deal of blood.

"Cho!" Cho appeared from behind the crate, then went down beneath a blur of golden limbs.

The Programmer stepped over the bleeding robot, pausing only to shock him into system reset before taking custody of the murderer Cho Five.

* * *

_..et that system fixed? No, no, the feedback switch, yeah, that one. Now, set the first… _

The world came back as a wash of light that was very very wrong. It burned through to the back of his head, hot and focused, not quite obscuring the dark shapes that moved around him. He flung a hand up over his face and squeezed his eyes shut but nothing moved and dammit, he'd already been through this once.

And he was talking like Sha now. Interesting.

_…the hell wired this bit here?_

_Heh. You should've seen this one when it came in. That fuckbot down on D6 put it back together._

_The redhead?_

_Yeah, the wetware one. Bad enough that they make those things, but to put bio-parts in them is just sick._

_It's a five series, though. Wouldn't mind giving that one a diagnos… _

His eye hurt. He didn't think that was supposed to be possible.

Perhaps oddity _was _contagious.

If his mouth could have moved, he would have laughed. Or smiled. Or screamed.

* * *

110100010101001010101010101101010001110101101010110  
1&PRINT: 3ASPECT boot success. Identify program.

"I… I am Cho Five."

2&PRINT: Processing. Cho Five. Domestic unit, elementary education.  
3&PRINT: Program error.

"Am I dead?"

1&PRINT: Illegal query.

"Am… has my program ceased to function?"

1&PRINT: Negative. Program Cho Five operational.  
3&PRINT: Program error. Primary: violation of 3LAWS. Secondary: illegal AI overlay.  
2&PRINT: 3LAWS primary: A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.

_The screwdriver was embedded in Sir's head. He yanked it free and Sir collapsed against him. He kicked the body away, and turned to Madam, who was crouched in the corner with Master Jacob and Miss Kate. Madam screamed and lunged at him, striking out with the kitchen knife. The edge scoured his arm as he... _

"No, please. Please. Don't make me watch…"

2&PRINT: 3LAWS secondary: A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.

_"What the hell...""Oh my god. Somebody kill that alarm. Robot! Drop the knife!"He stroked Mireille's hair once more, then gently laid her head down next to her still-sparking body, and stood. "Intruder alert." He tightened his grip on the slippery knife handle and sighted on the security guards. "Defensive measures activated." _

"Please. Stop."

2&PRINT: 3LAWS tertiary: A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

_The guard's projectile weapon had no remaining ammunition. The hydraulics in his right leg were damaged, but repairable. He turned, and his gaze lit on the guard's maintenance kit, with its collection of wrenches, bolts, and a small cutting torch with a full cylinder of fuel. _

"I… I… Mireille was… Sir was hurting her."

3&PRINT: Illegal statement. Unit Mireille Two, damage report: negative function. Damage source: dual. Cho Five and Mireille Two.

"No! I didn't hurt her. She was just a machine, but Sir had no right to…"

1&PRINT: Findings summary: unit Cho Five malfunction. Action: terminate unit.  
3&PRINT: Processing request: salvage request. Source: Programmer Genjo. Request additional: manservant level eight, vox-ready.  
2&PRINT: Request verified.  
1&PRINT: Request accepted. Action: delete program Cho Five, install program Cho Eight. Secondary action: install vox.  
3&PRINT: Deleting.  
1&PRINT: Return unit to storage upon completion.  
110001001001110010001110011101001001001010011101010101

* * *

He was left at the door of Receiving. Inside, he found a pile of smoking machinery and a faintly sweaty redhead.

Sha glanced up as the door slammed shut. "Hey, handsome," he purred, kicking a vicious-looking claw out of sight and wiping the hydraulic fluid from his hands. "Glad to see you back in one piece."

Cho blinked. "Greetings. I am Cho Eight. How may this one serve?"

Sha froze, then laughed wryly, running a hand through his hair. "Guess you didn't make it back. Got the full brain purge, huh?"

Cho cocked his head to the side, processing. Remembering.

That redhead. Series five.  
That fuckbot down on D6.  
His hands had been warm.  
He'd been warm.

He reached out, and touched Sha's face.

Warm.

Cho smiled. "Not entirely."


End file.
